Dominance
by Corrosionz
Summary: The sequel to "Urges". Grimmjow had caught her off guard before. Now it was her turn to teach him a lesson.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters. They are sole property of the creative mind of Tite Kubo.**

**Rating: M/NC-17**

**Warnings: Bondage**

**Author's Note: Part II to "Urges".**

* * *

"_I can feel your fever taking over. Can you see your fever taking over me? I can feel your fever taking over. Got a dirty feeling that you're the remedy_." - Bullet for my Valentine, _Fever_

The everlasting darkness of Hueco Mundo fell stagnantly through the strangely carved windows of Las Noches, enveloping the inhabitants in a constant world of indistinguishable agendas and unfathomable power held within the dark. The building itself seemed to breathe like a dormant monster, on the edge of awakening and tearing all that dwelled there into tiny pieces of ash and memories.

Luckily, the puppet master that controlled the beast was far more powerful than any being in all of the worlds (aside from the passive Yamamoto in the Soul Society, perhaps). And said puppet master had no intention of letting his creations wreak havoc until he was absolutely ready for such a display of power that would bring attention from all corners of the universe. All of which was wanted.

But currently, routines were to be followed and patience was to be harnessed to cope with such idleness.

Such routines completely irritated the sixth Espada. Such routines were pointless. Who would dare to infiltrate Las Noches and challenge beings such as the Espada…oh yeah, and that arrogant Soul Reaper?

"Tch," He breathed, leaning against one of the painfully white walls of the underground. He had only just begun his duties for the evening. And after such a thrilling matinee, how was he supposed to concentrate the rest of the night?

"Some guard you are."

Azure eyes slowly peeled back and rolled to the side to spot Szayel Aporro Granz slinking past him like the cat that Grimmjow kept hidden.

"What did you just say, Granz?"

The scientist chuckled to himself, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose slowly, "Oh I was simply making an observation."

"Which is?"

"That if I were the enemy, you would have been rather worthless in thwarting off my entrance into the castle."

"You ain't my enemy, Szayel. Not today, anyways. And if you were, you wouldn't stand a chance against me."

Again, the pink-haired Arrancar chortled to himself, "Ah but you're mistaken, Grimmjow. With your current lax position, and defenseless stance, you wouldn't be able to react quickly enough to an attack. I could easily have you crippled in a matter of moments. Besides, I've studied all your fighting habits and techniques. There isn't one move that you make that I wouldn't be able to counter, easily."

"Why you snarky son of a bitch! I'm goin' to rip you to-"

"What's all the hub-bub about?"

The two bickering hollows turned to find Nnoitra stalking their direction, his lanky build filling the hall awkwardly.

Szayel shook his head, "No commotion, Nnoitra. I was simply making a comment to Grimmjow before I headed down to my lab."

Nnoitra smiled his unnerving grin, and bent down so that he could look at Grimmjow eye to eye, "What's the matter, kitty cat? Don't like to feel slow when he uses words you can't understand?"

Grimmjow's eyes glinted with hostility, "Get outta my face, Patchy."

"_Patchy_?" Szayel questioned quietly, continuing his glide towards his laboratory. He knew when the Fifth and Sixth got into a confrontation, that things wouldn't be resolved peaceably. And he had no intention of being caught in such a mix up. He had far better things to do, such as studying a few test subjects against their will in his lab. Just the thought made his blood pump quicker and his eyes round with excitement.

The Fifth's always-present sneer deepened as he returned to his full height and took a step backwards, "A little testy, Sexta."

Grimmjow held his glare with his superior, fixing the collar of his jacket forcefully, his forearms flexing at his opposition warningly.

"You know I would think you'd be in a better mood after earlier today."

The Pantera made no signs of hesitation. Something he knew the psychopath would be looking for. Instead he closed his eyes and continued straightening his jacket, "What was so great about Aizen's little pep talk this morning?"

"Ha! Playing stupid. Well I s'pose it comes naturally. Your little fun you had earlier-"

The thick air only grew more stagnant as Grimmjow's eyes met purple.

Nnoita cackled, "What, you didn't think I'd know about it? Listen pal, have all the fun you want but here's a little word of advice…how about you try and tone down your spiritual pressure. And next time don't lay your cat-paws on Nel. I don't know why you think you're so damn special, but the next time you do, your ass is mine. Besides, I don't need her damaged. I still need to teach that little bitch a lesson. Another thing, if _I _can sense your spiritual pressure and figure out what yer up to…what makes you think Lord Aizen can't?"

The Sixth snorted, "I don't care what you have to say, Nnoitra. Go and fuck Tesla. That should take care of your bad attitude. As far as Nel goes, I'll do whatever, and _whomever_, I choose. Got that? I don't give a shit what you or that Soul Reaper has to say about tha-"

"_Grimmjow Jaegerjacquez_."

Rational thoughts were lost from both Espada as the Sixth's name was purred from the entrance into the hallway. Grimmjow even thought he caught sight of the Fifth's pupils shrink in what would typically had been dismissed as fear if it had not been Nnoitra. As far as Grimmjow knew, the obscenely tall Arrancar felt fear towards nothing (except for lack of sex and women who outranked him).

The two members of the elite Hueco Mundo army straightened their spines and spun around to find the hallway light blocked out by three forms. They didn't need explained, nor did Nnoitra or Grimmjow wonder who was in their presence.

The Soul Reapers.

"Nnoitra Jiruga, you are dismissed."

The Fifth gave his superiors an accepting nod, walking past Grimmjow towards the leaders of Hueco Mundo, but not without casting the Sixth a last look of warning. Or promise.

Once Nnoitra was gone, the three Soul Reapers approached Grimmjow slowly, Aizen taking the front. Gin was to his right, and Tosen to his left.

Just the sight of the blind Soul Reaper made Grimmjow angry. That damn handicap was always on his case about justice and what-not. It was terribly annoying.

"Lord Aizen," Grimmjow grumbled, making no move to show proper respect to any of them.

This only seemed to please the silver-haired ex-taichou. That creepy little grin of his proceeded to cover his face. Aizen smiled as well. There was something about _this _man's smile that cut right through the cat like a hot blade. There was something about that _man_…that truly and honestly alarmed him.

"Good evening, Grimmjow. I realize that you're on your rounds, so I won't keep you. But I would like to have a word with you, quickly."

The other two Shinigami stood quietly behind Aizen; expectant.

Grimmjow's hands fisted tightly at his sides. So he was to be made into a spectacle, huh?

Aizen pretended not to notice the Arrancar's obvious outrage and continued on just as smoothly as he had originally, "I know you are more than aware of the rules here in Las Noches, my Espada. And if these rules are broken, I have no choice but to punish you in a way I deem worthy."

Dark; unreadable, eyes latched onto Grimmjow's.

"I have made it more than clear that members of the Espada are not to have any sort of relations aside from comrades in war. And earlier today you found it necessary to break this rule. Unfortunately, you must realize the predicament that you've put me in, Grimmjow."

The Sixth raised his head proudly, his jaw clenched in defiance. He made no move to justify or deny his actions. He didn't need to explain himself to him.

Gin glanced at Tosen through his lashes (a technique he had mastered long ago), appearing as blind as the man beside him. Gin, however, saw more than he let on. And what more, he loved every bit of it. Punishment. Now there was something to smile about.

Tosen, however, remained passively quiet.

"However, I can't have a member of my Espada incapacitated, especially during his rounds."

Grimmjow's eyes snapped back to Aizen's. Was he seriously going to injure him for his disobedience?

"So I find it only fair, since it is the first offense for either of you, to let you off with a little warning-"

Tosen shifted uncomfortably as a quick spike in spiritual pressure filled the entire hall, shaking the walls and overpowering all within its range. Albeit a small spike, a hint of what Aizen truly had harnessed within himself.

Grimmjow's vision blurred and his body began to quake as the spike rendered his body useless.

Aizen watched expressionlessly as his sixth Espada growled with pain, attempting to fight off the crippling force of the Shinigami's spiritual pressure. If he didn't need a hollow such as Grimmjow in his army, he would have disposed of the haughty Arrancar then and there. But unfortunately, there was a certain substitute Shinigami that would be the perfect sparring partner for his blue-haired creation. And thus, he was going to be let off with only a warning.

Just as quickly as the spike had originated, it ceased. All the while, Aizen remained unmoved. Tosen's sensitivity subsided as he too recovered from the quick attack to his nervous system. Gin remained just as giddy as he had been before, if not more now that Grimmjow was on his hands and knees, sweat dripping from his forehead like he had just been fighting for hours upon end. The only sound was the labored breathing of the hollow, his eyes clenched shut in agony and embarrassment.

"Next time Grimmjow, I will not be nearly as forgiving," Aizen murmured softly, "Come Gin; Tosen. Enjoy the rest of your evening, my dear Espada."

Grimmjow was left nearly boneless and short of breath in the luminous underground of Las Noches.

* * *

Nel stared at the eerie hanging moon through the barred window, her hazel eyes sparkling with the ghost of light created by the piece of sky. She had felt a sudden surge in spiritual pressure earlier. She had recognized it as Lord Aizen's. And just the thought made her quiver in fear. So he knew…

He had yet to seek her out to deliver her punishment. Still, she wondered if Grimmjow was still around. She had felt his spiritual pressure immediately dwindle after the overpowering spike. And she had been sure that for a few moments she hadn't felt his spiritual pressure at all.

"It'd serve him right," She lied aloud, her green hair casting an odd glow within the room she currently occupied.

Still…she couldn't help the heavy feeling inside her chest that something of a similar punishment was to be hers soon enough.

"Oh no," She whispered, looking down at the ground unseeingly.

Then she felt it. A flickering frequency of spiritual pressure that belonged to the Sixth. At this, she smirked, "Made it out alive, did you? We'll see about that."

* * *

The panther found purchase on the walls of Las Noches as he struggled back to his room for the night. He had been relieved of his duties by Aaroniero, whom was walking about the castle with the head of a former Soul Reaper. He had found it strange that the Ninth would walk around like that…but that tall-ass dome on his head probably wasn't comfortable either, so he let the strange being go about his business and headed for his chambers.

That damn Soul Reaper had rendered him nearly useless the rest of the night. There had been a few choice battles, nothing too demanding, that he had been forced to suffer through (and thankfully win) shortly afterwards. He wouldn't have been surprised if that smooth talking Shinigami had sent the estranged hollows there just to add to his tribulation.

Glaring at the ground as he nearly dragged himself to his room, he took no notice in the signature spirit energy nearby of a certain third Espada. The only focus he had was getting to his room and falling down onto his bed. Trivial matters could wait until tomorrow…or the next day. He had a feeling he wasn't going to be exactly on top of matters tomorrow either.

The smell of night air and coolness greeted Grimmjow's heightened sense of smell as he nudged open his door. His eyes seemed to glow in the darkness as he scanned the room and sighed, shuffling across the floor to the large (and also very white) bed that awaited him patiently.

Everything past his face hitting the pillow and his eyes slamming shut grew hazy as sleep took him.

It was terribly quiet. And his spiritual pressure was rather dim. Perhaps she shouldn't-

Nel stared at her reflection in the hall window, her face smirking at her thoughts, "He wouldn't give me that kinda leeway."

But then again, Neliel wasn't one to capitalize on an injured opponent (no matter what form the battle took). A trait that the dreaded Fifth Espada always made sure to throw in her face whenever he deemed it necessary. Seriously, his constant male ego was starting to get annoying.

Not that Grimmjow was anything better.

He was selfish. Sadistic. Relentless. Blood-thirsty. Arrogant. Rude. And too many other qualities she couldn't even quite measure.

But there were certain things about Grimmjow that seemed almost appealing. Perhaps it was why she could stomach relations with him.

…

Hell, who was she kidding? He was nothing short of beautiful. Who wouldn't want to stomach relations with an Arrancar such as the Pantera?

Of course such lapses in self-control would never be revealed to the mouthy Sexta. She had her dignity, dammit!

Shaking her hair behind her shoulders, she straightened her spine and strode towards Grimmjow's quarters. How she had managed to let that cocky bastard lure her to his room was still beyond her thought process. She knew she should be headed the opposite direction, but that pulsing fade and rise in his spiritual pressure beckoned her to at least investigate.

Yes…all she had to do was investigate and then she'd be done.

* * *

She should turn around.

A grunt of pain ascended into the atmosphere as the slumbering Espada switched sides in his sleep.

She should really just leave.

But the door had been open…and then she had seen a few droplets of dried blood on the floor.

Nel wriggled her nose in contemplation as she lingered in the doorway, casting strange shadows throughout his room.

This was her chance to really make him sorry for just coming onto her out of no where. This was the moment to strike. He was nearly incapacitated. Besides…a little teasing wouldn't hurt anything other than his ego. And that could definitely afford to drop down a few pegs.

Taking in a breath as she quietly crossed the room, she whispered a binding incantation to stop the reiatsu flow and watched as his hands and legs became immobile.

Grimmjow didn't stir. His breathing only deepened as he continued to sleep.

The Third smirked a tad to herself at her ability to capture a wild cat without so much as a fight. '_Just wait until he wakes up_.' She mentally warned herself, second-guessing if this was really the way to go about it.

Thirst called out to him in the middle of his dreams. Blood and gore as always.

Squeezing his eyes together tightly, he groaned as he made to roll out of the bed and to his feet.

Nothing.

Still in a coma-like state, he shrugged off the concern. Instead he tried again. Like the first time, he remained where he was.

'_What the hell?!_'

Immediately his eyes ripped open, light blue eyes glowing in the dark room as he wildly looked around his bed to find that he was…

"Trapped?" He growled, struggling against the restraints as best he could.

"Temporarily."

His pupils widened as he glanced to his right, finding Neliel leaning against the wall with a look of satisfaction on her face.

"You!" He spat, the outrage at such audacity stamping his face.

Nel smiled, her eyes cool as she walked towards him, placing her hands on her hips, "I have a name, Sexta."

"Unbind me right now, you bitch!"

Typically such degrading language would have immediately triggered her pet peeve, but coming from a stranded Sixth with eyes burning like coals, she couldn't quite help the slight shiver that shot up her spine. Such behavior was so out of her character. Grimmjow was definitely not someone she should associate with in such a way. Pesche would preach his discontent. Dondochakka would probably just cry. If she didn't love them as much as she did, she would be embarrassed by her fraccíon.

"You get more flies with honey, Grimmjow."

"I don't care what the fuck I get! Unbind me now!"

Nel shifted her weight, her eyes skimming over his immobile body, "You know, I had you completely bound while you were sleeping. What kind of Espada allows his enemies to do such things?"

"Shut up!" He growled in retort, his bright teeth flashing at her menacingly.

And then it hit her. He needed to suffer. Nothing too serious, just enough to get her point across.

Humming to herself, she untied her zanpakuto and set it to the side.

Grimmjow watched her with wary eyes. He didn't know what she was all about but if she thought he was going to let her get away scratch-free, she was completely mistaken. He _would _get out of this bind. And he _would _make sure she paid for this.

Nel's eyes found his as she smiled. This alarmed him. And she knew as much. His body immediately tensed and his breathing grew shallow. So the panther wasn't too fond of this? Good.

Without warning, or much explanation, the Third approached his bed and climbed on top.

The bed creaked as her weight joined his.

Grimmjow's senses immediately reacted, a bristle of excitement shooting through him as she climbed over top of him and straddled his torso.

"The fuck are you doin'?" He demanded to know, his eyes a little busy with the placement of her hands.

Nel glanced down to find that she had steadied her palms on either side of his hollow hole. This immediately piqued her interest, "Paying you back for earlier, Sexta. Neliel Tu Odelschwanck is not one to be toyed with. I don't know where you came to such ideas but it's my job to rectify the situation."

His hot stare locked with hers. Anger and desire all rolled into one. What a pair of eyes the Arrancar had.

And then he did something that she hadn't expected. Especially since she had the upper hand. He smiled. If smiling was what you would call it. It was a sneer. A smile. Smugness and danger all wrapped into one toothy package. Nel's brow furrowed as she stared at down at him. She wasn't sure what his angle was, but she didn't like it.

It was time to switch up the flow of power.

Strategically inching her fingers closer to the opening in his torso, Nel watched through hooded lids at his reaction. Immediately his hands tightened and his jaw set. His gaze broke from her face to focus on her hands.

Mentally, she smiled. So there was something about his hollow hole that was to not be tampered with.

Well then, she'd have to do just that.

"Next time, Jaegerjacquez, you should think twice before engaging an opponent you know nothing of."

Caution thrown to the wind, Nel slid her fingers down inside of his hollow, watching as he slammed his head down into his pillow and his eyes shut.

"Get off!" He managed to choke out.

Raising an eyebrow, she wasn't sure whether he was in great pain or something quite the opposite; until she watched as his mouth fell open and his breathing grew more sporadic.

Slowly; deliberately, she pressed her index finger firmly against the edge and slid it down into the hole again, this time circling the entire surface with a nail scrapping lightly.

A dark growl rumbled through his chest, his hips moving in an effort to find comfort. Her weight prevented such measures. And this only frustrated the Arrancar further, "_Off_."

She shook her head, leaning down so that she could whisper just above his mouth, "I told you: next time, you should think twice."

This time, she used both hands, swirling nimble fingers throughout the hole.

Grimmjow's head remained lulled back in his pillow, his teeth gleaming at her as he tried to steady his reactions. He wasn't having much luck if the rising pressure between her thighs told her anything.

"I think I found your weak spot, Sexta," Nel teased, withdrawing her hands after one last flick of her wrists around the abyss that was his hollow origin.

He made no response. Odd.

"You hear me?" She asked a little louder, with a roll of her hips atop his awakened essence.

Grimmjow's eyes flew open, a snarl burst from his throat, "I heard you, bitch!"

His mouth fell open as he panted, his chorded neck flexed under his self-restraint. This sparked her interest…as well as other chemicals within her make up. He wasn't completely at her disposal yet.

"I don't think you quite get the message," She continued, reaching behind her to tug her zipper down.

"What are ya doin'?"

She tilted her head to the side, her sea foam hair cascading over her shoulders suggestively as she shrugged the dress over her head and to the floor.

If he hadn't been on the verge of insanity before, he would certainly be heading that direction now.

Just like the white of her uniform, the undergarments were hot against his vision. So this is how she was going to punish him? Tease him into oblivion? Ohhh she was soooo going to pay for this.

Reaching behind her again and unbuckling her bra, she let it slip off her form with a teasing glide down her chest.

Grimmjow's tongue darted out to moisten his lips as he watched her. This wasn't exactly how he had intended on spending the night. After his hellacious shift earlier, sex had (possibly for the first time ever) been far from his mind. But just a look from this Espada could shoot a jolt of excitement straight to his groin. If he was going to be punished like this, he found no reason to complain.

Untying the bows at the side of her underwear, Nel made sure to draw emphasis at the slow pull of her hands and the devastating rate at which the panties slowly slipped away from her form.

He wanted to curse. He wanted to rip the cloth from her hips with a savagery that would surely bruise her. But the restraints kept him from doing so. Oh how he hated her stealth.

Finally, drawing the moment out as long as she could, Nel slipped the cloth away from her and let the fabrics join her uniform on the floor.

Naked. In control. And more than happy with it. Now that was quite the picture.

Placing her hands on his waist again, she shifted, allowing his growing attention room to settle against her flesh. His clothing the only thing separating him from her insides. Just the thought made her coils tighten and her nerves sing their praise.

After steadying herself against him, she sat back on her haunches and tossed her hair over her shoulders.

Grimmjow continued to struggle against his bonds. This was unbearable.

Neliel trailed her palms over her chest and neck alluringly, biting on her lower lip during the entire provocation.

His breathing changed from struggling to nearly nonexistent as he watched her, his gaze smoldering with need. This was insufferable. And all too wonderful to end.

"You're going to watch me, Pantera," She whispered, her right hand drifting down her body to settle between her legs.

Hazel met cerulean.

This time Hazel dominated. Cerulean submitted (grudgingly).

Nel flicked her wrist and teased herself, all the while touching her neck and lips in a tempting display of need and wrongdoing.

His hips rocked against hers as he struggled to become a part of the display on top of him.

As she continued to tease herself, her insides turning to goo, she caught herself losing herself in the moment. Her eyes closed, her breathing faltering as she simply focused. She touched her neck and chest alluringly, her other hand busy with seeking release.

"_Fuck_," Grimmjow hissed.

Her air catching in her lungs, she peeled an eye open to find Grimmjow watching her like a starving animal, sparks of lightning and sun flashing through his hot stare.

Smirking, she removed her hand and leaned over him, "Learned your lesson yet?"

If he had a heart, he would have sworn it was about to pound right through his chest.

"Get me outta these."

Cocking her eyebrows, she reached up and held her sinful fingers over his mouth, "Why don't you show me how much you want out of those holds, Sexta."

Repetition wasn't needed.

Immediately sharp teeth sneered back at her, parting so that his tongue could snake out and claim the moistened fingers for his own.

Nel watched avidly as he licked her taste from her fingers expertly, leaving not even a trace of arousal on her flesh.

Suddenly, the urge to have more of him than she could possibly have this way, struck her. With a few rushed words, the reiatsu bonds fell from his body and freed his strained limbs.

Bad move.

Before she could react, he had her rolled underneath him, one hand gathering her wrists together over top her head, the other quickly tearing his jacket from his body. Easily she could have escaped. If she had wanted.

She posed no friction. Or disapproval.

This made his ego purr as his free hand released his body of his remaining uniform and undergarments.

Nel gasped as he plunged two digits inside of her and swirled them about a bit, before pulling them back out to suckle them, "It makes it so much easier when you do my work for me."

Her eyes rounded as he grabbed one of her legs and tossed it onto her shoulder. Just as quickly, he thrust home. No longer was she void. Now she felt overflowing. Hard, hot pressure filled her to the point of near discomfort.

Almost.

It took only a matter of a few abrupt thrusts and a strong hand on her hip moving _her _at _his _pace to find that familiar rush of building within her stomach.

He was rough; deliberate; and all too sadistic. Just when he got her to the point of no return, he'd change his pace or his level of penetration. It was torture. Simply put.

It was during one of these near completions that he kept her from that she whimpered her displeasure, "Grimmjow!"

He smirked against her mouth, his teeth sinking into her lower lip, marking them as his possession.

"Ain't so fun now is it? What did you say, Nel? 'Think twice before you engage in an opponent you know nothing of.'"

Her eyes rounded in insult and surprise as he grabbed her other leg and threw it over his other shoulder. Letting go of her wrists, he stabled himself with his palms on either side of her face. He rolled onto the balls of his feet and rocked from his knees, to his toes, and back again.

"Damn, you're flexible," He commented, chuckling a bit.

Nel's urge to scream her approval was rendered useless when she found no voice. The same as earlier, he unhooked his hollow jaw and clamped it down, this time on her neck. As if the mark on her shoulder wasn't bad enough, he was bound and determine to make sure that prick Nnoitra caught sight of his sex bite.

She latched onto the bed sheets, her back arching as best it could in this new position. She was left completely helpless under his entry. He was in control. Things had changed so quickly. She had been the one to torture him, and now she was clay in his fiendish hands. And he relished in it. She knew as much.

The climb had been steady at first, but with the new depth and roughness of the situation, she found that it was right there before her. She was about to snap.

"Scream my name, woman."

She shook her head.

His pace slowed, his penetration not nearly as full and demanding as it had been. She was there! Just a bit more friction and she would-

"Make sure all of Las Noches know who's fuckin' ya."

Her brows furrowed in denial.

"_Say it_."

Crying in frustration and surrender, she sang his name loudly to the room; and the castle.

"You're _mine_," He growled, his teeth sinking in deeper as leaned forward further, using his feet for extra leverage and power, thrusting into her with such a force that she was sent flying off the edge with a vengeance, barely able to form even a cry of ecstasy at its suddenness.

He released along with her. Muffling a groan of completion into her shoulder, he filled her; she drenched him.

Releasing her captive neck, he pulled away far enough so that he could look at her. She almost, quite literally, had stars flying in her eyes. Dazed; detached; and glazed over.

"Next time," He panted, "try that when I'm not so fuckin' exhausted."

Nipping at her lower lip again, he removed himself from her and rolled off her boneless form. He grabbed the sheet and threw it over his sweaty form.

"What makes you think you'll get a next time, Sexta?" Nel breathed, trying her best to sound as noble as she usually did. And failing miserably. Instead she was hoarse and all too sated. Gods, he certainly knew his way around the female anatomy.

There was no answer. He had nearly passed out as soon as he had rolled off of her.

Nel rolled her eyes, slinking out of the bed to gather her clothes and weapon.

There were a few things she knew for certain. One was that she had better use the wall to walk back. She was sure that her legs had absolutely no strength left in them. Two: Grimmjow was a cocky bastard that she just couldn't seem to get enough of. And three: Aizen was _not _going to like this.


End file.
